


The Lips I've Kissed

by thornsilver



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornsilver/pseuds/thornsilver
Summary: Two assassins at work and play.





	The Lips I've Kissed

**Author's Note:**

> This is a post Kapital AU. 
> 
> This work was originally posted to my LJ.

Yohji had frequent occasions to wonder if his life was too surreal. After all, things like psychic assassins, (maybe) resurrected dead partners, and demon risings all had their place. Preferably between the pages of a horror manga.

And now he could *swear* that Aya was checking him out. It was really taking surrealism above and beyond. Yoji told himself that he was imagining things, not having gotten any for a while. They were all under orders by the new Persia to lay low until directed otherwise, which effectively left them under house arrest when not doing things mission-related.

Besides, if somebody asked Yohji about Aya's sexual inclinations, he would have probably made a quip about edged weapons. After all, the only time Aya showed anything approaching passion was when he was trying to kill someone. In that light, the katana looked like one hell of a compensation mechanism.

Aya had been noticeably different since his sister was miraculously returned to him. Still, it continued to throw Yohji every time the redhead gave him a subtly considering look from under lowered eyelashes, or when Yoji could distinctly feel somebody checking his ass, only to meet Aya's too bland expression when he turned around. And then there were times when Aya had deliberately added sway to his walk, or brushed way closer to Yohji than the situation demanded.

It was hot, no question. It was also very fucking disturbing. Yohji wished very fervently that he knew what was going on. If it was someone else, anyone else, Yohji could have had fun with it, even taken the man up on his offer. Simple, easy, no strings. But this was Aya. Nothing was ever simple where Aya was concerned.

***

It was difficult to believe that one can get used to being an assassin, but there it was. Yohji spent the last two hours freezing his ass off and being bored out of his mind simultaneously. He did still remember the time when the prospect of a fight and the possibility that *he* might be the loser quickened his pulse with adrenaline. Too bad that the only thing he could work up today was a case of mild irritation.

The fight itself was rather typical, but it managed to provide some entertainment, at least. When the target realized which way the wind was blowing and bolted (and it was amazing to see that a guy that stout could run this fast), Yoji was right behind him.

For a little while at least, before Yohji's smoking habit caught up with him. It was one of rare times he considered giving the cancer sticks up. His team was going to kill *him*, if he let Minekura get away.

Aya, of course, was not a smoker. He overtook Yohji quickly, even though the last time Yohji checked, the swordsman was dealing with the bodyguards at the other side of the floor.

He didn't even spare Yohji a glance. That was pure mission-mode Aya. And, as was to be expected, Aya on a mission ran after their quarry without waiting for back up. Mentally, Yohji flipped him a finger.

The loud metal stairs led to the underground garage. Yohji had to slow a bit as he made his way over two bodyguard corpses at the stairwell entrance. Slipping on the blood and falling would have been painful and embarrassing.

He made it just on time to wrap the wire around a pointing gun-hand of the bodyguard number three. There was a flash of a blade and a whirl of a coat, accompanied by a geyser of blood as Aya slit his throat. Yohji yanked, pulling the body out of the car window.

Minekura tried to bring his own gun to bear, but Aya was ready. He had removed the target's gun-hand, finishing him off with a smooth move with the katana.

It was suddenly very quiet, the only sounds coming from dripping blood and Yohji's labored breathing. He met Aya's eyes just for a second, but it was long enough to note that the purple was almost completely eclipsed by the darkness of the pupils. Yohji himself still throbbed with the after effects of *this* fight. It really was a pleasure, hunting with Aya. They worked so good together, almost reading each other's minds...

"This is Abyssinian. The target is eliminated."

"Roger, Abyssinian. Withdrawal plan A. Bombay out."

Yohji was all the way to the car before he realized that he was hard.

***  
None of the rare moments when Yohji's well-developed fantasy life created scenarios which featured both sex and Aya in easy harmony had prepared Yohji for the reality. Especially since the reality consisted of Aya showing up in his room that night.

Aya was wearing only a pair of ratty sweatpants and several fresh bruises. He was also carrying a bottle of sake. Yohji would have felt better if he could have blamed the current installment of surrealism on his imagination, except he hadn't started drinking yet.

Aya looked at him from under his eyelashes, but Yohji was a bit preoccupied with examining the other man's treasure trail as it disappeared into his pants. It's not like he didn't know that Aya was a natural redhead, but the visual confirmation was nice.

By the time he met Aya's eyes again, the man looked irritated instead of coy. Not like he didn't have cause either. Yohji has better dust his suaveness off for use soon, if he wanted to get any tonight.

*Did* he want to get any? Yohji swallowed at the progression of Aya's blush, dark enough to be seen even in the semi-darkness of the room. Hell, yes!

He took a step forward, taking hold of both Aya's hand and the neck of the bottle, and noticing absentmindedly that his fingers were longer than Aya's.

"You didn't really need to bring alcohol, you know."

Aya looked at him, eyes dark.

"You seem to set great stock by it, Kudou."

Yohji stepped closer still, close enough that his chest was flush against Aya's chest, and Aya hopefully couldn't see him smile at the thought that Aya could give snarky bastards a bad name. He was still doubtful that Aya possessed a sense of humor, and violence was probably contraindicated at this juncture.

Aya shivered a little at Yohji's breath so close to his ear, and the blond used the momentary distraction to pull the sake out of Aya's hands and put it on the little table by the door.

Yohji didn't stop expecting trouble, but it was easy, so fucking easy, he just couldn't believe it. He kissed Aya, deeply, and hooked his right hand around Aya's waist. Aya's skin felt cool, cooler than the redhead's mouth, and Yoji could feel Aya's nipples pebbling, hard against his own chest.

Aya made a sexy sound, more an exhale than a moan, and the lazy arousal that Yohji have been feeling suddenly flared with sexual heat.

Yohji led them to his bed, walking backwards, unwilling to break the kiss, until Aya pushed at his chest and tumbled him on the coverlet, before calmly stripping off his pants and letting them fall on the floor. He wasn't wearing underwear. The shock of it, of what it meant, wasn't particularly conducive to keeping a clear head. Yohji was pretty sure that he hadn't stripped faster in his entire life.

He caught Aya's hand and pulled him down on the bed. Here, Aya was close enough for Yohji to run his hands and his mouth all over that inviting skin. Aya tasted a bit like the bland soap he has been using and was making very nice noises that went straight to Yohji's cock. To thank him (and to provoke more of the same, of course), Yohji found Aya's, enjoying the telling wetness of precome on its tip.

Yohji was justifyingly proud of his abs, but Aya's weren't bad either. Swordsmanship needed to be backed up by quite a lot of muscle power to be effective, and Aya, being a methodical guy, made sure that he was strong enough. Yohji licked the stomach to show his appreciation. Aya hissed and arched off the bed as Yohji's free hand found a nipple and his thumb flicked over it. Aya's cock twitched in Yohji's hand.

And then Aya was coming, his back bowed, Yohji just managing to get his face out of harm's way.

Yohji grinned to himself at Aya's rapid breathing, and at the smell that filled the room. Some things never failed to give him a sense of accomplishment. His aching balls, however, were giving a notice that they would appreciate some accomplishment for themselves as well.

Aya blinked at him and tried to move a sweat-damp lock off his face by blowing on it, before studying Yohji from head to foot. Or, rather, to Yohji's cock, standing out and proud (and very needy). Aya swallowed.

"May I?"

"Be my guest."

Aya started by running a finger down Yohji's cock from the root to the tip. Yohji ground his teeth and managed not to thrust into the gesture, because he had his pride. He fuzzily wondered if Aya liked the texture. But then a callused hand wrapped around his cock and most of the thoughts in Yohji's head departed for the parts unknown.

As Aya jerked him, he watched Yohji's face with the level of attention that was almost disturbing. Yoji had to close his eyes and turn his face away from the intensity. Incredulously he felt a flicker of wetness on his slit--Aya's tongue--and then he was coming, finally. It felt strangely right.

When he calmed down and opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see Aya glaring at him in mild irritation. He *was* surprised that he managed not to get Aya in the face when he blew. Despite the ever-familiar grumpy expression, Aya looked relaxed and sleepy. Yohji didn't even try to fight the impulse to push that red head to lie on his shoulder. Aya must have not minded all that much, since he didn't complain or put up a fight. And fell asleep immediately.

Yohji let Aya settle, but couldn't follow him into the dream-land. Instead he studied the ceiling, and thought that, apparently, sometimes even Aya was easy. He grinned and closed his eyes, happily listening to the quiet breathing of his bedmate. If this was what surreal was like, Yohji just might learn to live with it.


End file.
